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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356631">This is the Worthwhile Fight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam'>Signsofsam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends To This) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Bobby, One Shot, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:20:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you even listening, Mr. Buckley?”</p><p>And to be honest, that’s a no, Buck’s definitely not been listening. He’s exhausted, the adrenaline he’s been running on since the tsunami hit long sapped from his body, and the only thing he wants to do is find Christopher, make sure he’s okay, beg Eddie’s forgiveness, and go home and sleep for maybe a week.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends To This) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>9-1-1 Tales</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>This is the Worthwhile Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>And we're back (in less than a month? What...what am I doing with my life?)! For today's selection: we have my own post-tsunami fic with a bit of changing because frankly, I just don't know that Buck's lawsuit and Eddie's stupidity regarding Fight Club is gonna fit into my 'verse. </p><p>Also, this is way, way angstier than I'm used to writing.</p><p>Title is from <i>State of Grace</i> from Taylor Swift (are you noticing a theme in these titles yet?)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you even listening, Mr. Buckley?”</p><p>And to be honest, that’s a no, Buck’s definitely not been listening. He’s exhausted, the adrenaline he’s been running on since the tsunami hit long sapped from his body, and the only thing he wants to do is find Christopher, make sure he’s okay, beg Eddie’s forgiveness, and go home and sleep for maybe a week. His leg is aching, pulsating pain and he’s pretty sure his physical therapist is going to shit a brick with the strain he put it under today, and he wonders idly where he stuck his crutches, since he’s pretty sure-</p><p>“Mr. Buckley?”</p><p>He starts, jumping a little on the bed. “Sorry, doc. It’s-it’s been a hell of a day.”</p><p>The doctor smiles then, just a bit, patting Buck’s good hand, the one the IV is in, since the other one is still numb from the local they gave him to stitch up the laceration on his forearm. “I bet it has. But I need you to try, okay?”</p><p>There’s a noise outside the curtain of his exam area (his injuries aren’t major enough to warrant an actual room, <i>Thank God</i>), and suddenly Eddie is there, warm hand sliding across Buck’s back, anchoring him in the now. “Sorry it took me so long, doc; my son was also getting checked out. Now, you were saying?” Buck is so grateful, because Eddie is there to listen, his fingers trailing through Buck’s hair, scratching lightly, and now Buck can sink into the nothingness, because Eddie can’t be that upset with him for losing Chris if he’s <b>here</b>, right?</p><p>“Yeah, no, he won’t be alone. I’ll be staying with him,” he hears Eddie say, strong and confident, his fingers moving down Buck’s neck, massaging the stiff muscles. There’s more talking and Buck’s pretty sure it’s about the cuts on his face and the laceration on his arm, the one on his ribs from where he caught some sort of debris, and maybe they talk about the blood loss, but honestly? the only thing keeping him awake right now is Eddie, because he just wants to sink into the exhaustion that’s clinging to the edges of him. “Just a little longer, Buck, and I promise we’ll get you to bed and you can get some sleep.”</p><p>Eddie’s true to his word, and not ten minutes later, Bobby’s there to help Buck shuffle out, Eddie carrying a sleeping Chris. Buck doesn’t remember much about getting home, doesn’t really remember much about climbing the steps up to the bed, or even sinking into sleep.</p><p>--//--//--</p><p>He wakes with a start, hands clutching his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric. His breathing is ragged and too quick, and...there’s a weight, by his side, and when he looks-</p><p><i>Christopher</i>.</p><p>The boy is curled against him, his own hand twisted in Buck’s shirt, and it settles him, melts away the panic. He relaxes back into the sheets, reaching out to trail his fingers along the cut on Chris’ forehead. Chris’ face scrunches a little before it smooths again, and Buck can’t help but to lean forward and press a kiss into the boy’s curls; staying close just a minute longer before he extracts himself from the bed, wincing as he puts weight on his bad leg. His whole body is one big ache, but his leg is where the pain radiates, and he knows that taking an unassisted step would probably be a very bad idea. His crutches are leaning against his bedside table, and he smiles to himself at Eddie’s thoughtfulness as he grabs them.</p><p>He can hear low music coming from his kitchen, and he makes the slow trip down from the loft. Eddie is there, stirring something in a pot Buck didn’t realize he owned, singing softly to himself. He’s showered, wearing a pair of sweats that Buck knows are his, and that does something to him, his heart racing as he thinks of a future of clothes sharing, but he packs that away quickly; he can’t think like that now.. “You’re cooking,” he murmurs as he pauses at the island to rest.</p><p>“Yeah, well, when Abuela gives you her chicken soup recipe with clear instructions to give it to the hero who saved her great-grandson, you follow her directions,” Eddie answers with an easy smile, nodding to the barstool. “Sit down, Buck; you look about ready to pass out again.”</p><p>“How long was I out?” </p><p>“Nearly twenty hours? Doc said it was to be expected; you were running on fumes at the hospital, and the medicine they gave you didn’t help.”</p><p>“I didn’t save him.” It’s a dark thought, and a confession barely above a whisper, but it makes Eddie stop to focus solely on the other man, still holding on to the side of the island. Buck bites his lip, looking at the island, at the pot, anywhere but his best friend as he lays his soul bare. “I...I lost him, Eddie. I thought I’d...I thought I’d killed him. When you found me, I was hiding, because I-I didn’t know how to tell you that I <i>lost</i> him. I was...I was trying to pull someone else up because the water was going back out, and I should have been watching Chris. He...he-” He gasps as Eddie pulls him into a hug, and the panic  gives way to wracking sobs, his fears manifesting themselves in his mind: never finding Christopher, or finding a little body face-down in the dirty water, knowing he could have saved him if he had just been paying attention instead of trying to play the hero.</p><p>He cries, and cries, and cries, for what seems like forever, until the world becomes clearer, and Eddie’s voice cuts through the darkness that’d surrounded him, and he’s back in his apartment, still in Eddie’s tight embrace. “Oh, Buck...<i>Evan</i>, you saved him.” The words are soft, steady, and Eddie absently runs his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Buck’s neck, “You saved him. He wouldn’t be here without  you fighting for him. He told me that. That’s what he remembers, because that’s what happened. I know that’s what happened.”</p><p>“But it’s not, Eddie.” Buck jerks away, because he needs Eddie to see, needs him to understand how much he screwed up, how bad it could have been. “I lost him. I could have gotten him killed. I’m so stupid. I’m so-”</p><p>Eddie’s hands come up to cup Buck’s face, and he stops talking, blue eyes widening, unsure of what Eddie is doing. He can only watch, stare into Eddie’s brown eyes (and maybe there’s hope somewhere deep inside, that Eddie feels like Buck does) as the man moves closer and closer, until their chests are pressed together, until there’s an uttered “you’re the furthest from stupid I’ve ever seen. Please tell me if you don’t want this.” Then there’s a pause, enough for Buck to say no if he wants (he doesn’t) and finally (<b>finally!</b>), a kiss. </p><p>It’s just a small kiss, a soft kiss, a promise of something more, and Buck’s eyes are still wide when Eddie pulls away. “I wish you could see you as I do right now. You are a man I think I could easily fall in love with, and that’s before you sacrificed for Chris.  You risked your life for my son over and over again today. You suffered to keep him safe, and you never gave up on him. You never gave up on finding him, even at the end. I know if that woman hadn’t come up with him, you would have followed me back out into the wreckage until we did find him. That wonderful man is who I see every time I look at you.  You are not stupid, you are not weak, you don’t deserve to be punished because of a natural disaster, Evan.”</p><p>Buck’s got one hand on Eddie’s forearm, keeping him steady and his crutch from clattering to the floor, and the other comes up to touch his lips, still shocked as he watches Eddie and Eddie watches him back. “You-you’re not just doing this out of pity, right? Because I don’t...I don’t think I could handle that.”</p><p>Eddie lets out the smallest of laughs, a huff really, and leans his forehead against Buck’s for a beat, until he feels Buck wincing from where he’s touching the cuts on his face. “Definitely not pity, Buckley,” he says, and he’s reeling Buck in for another kiss. “You believe me yet?”</p><p>And for the first time in a while, something other than worry and despair fills Buck, something happy and light, and he smiles, a real, actual Evan Buckley smile. “I think...I think maybe I do.” </p><p>Later, after Chris wakes, Eddie will feed both his boys Abuela’s chicken soup in bed, cajole them into showers and naps and even more soup, but for now, it’s just the two of them standing close in a kitchen, trading kisses, something new and exciting blossoming between them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, that ending was...something, I guess? </p><p>Hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments or kudos if you'd like. I've got a couple different ideas outlined for this verse so hopefully you see you next time!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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